Where You Were Going To
by Shadow131
Summary: Sidelines of the main story "Where Am I Going To" Just a bunch of one shots and fluff.
1. These Tender Hearts of Ours

**These Tender Hearts of Ours**

"You're not concentrating. This offends me."

Luke's third birthday was fast approaching. He'd grown considerably over the year he'd spent with his father. At two, he was practically grown up.

Well, not quite.

With a very lazy yawn, the toddler fell from his shaky standing position and onto his rump, giving a small whimper. It appeared that the boy had grown quite tired of the lesson, and was making it very plain that he was done for the day. His father, however, did not agree.

Darth Vader brushed his mind against that of his son's, speaking to him. _Come on, don't sit down. We aren't done yet._

Using the Force never ceased to amaze Luke, who looked up at his father with large, curious blue eyes. He blinked several times, and crawled back onto his little feet. Grinning, displaying growing baby teeth, the toddler took a few shaking, awkward steps in the direction of his father. Loosing his balance, the boy fell foreword, and Vader put up his hand to catch him. With a small "whump," the solid little child's stomach smacked into his father's palm, and he wrinkled his nose. The Lord of the Sith, crouched on the floor to be on a more eye level with the boy, shifted his weight, relieving the pent stress in his knees. It occurred to him that with each year that his son grew older, so did he, and he puzzled over that for a moment. Removing the black gloved hand, the Dark Lord supported the toddler using the Force until the boy had regained his balance.

Whimpering, Luke reached out his tiny hand for his father's, and tugged at the Sith Lord's cape until he relented and gave him the hand. There was no real reason for wanting the hand. He just did things because he could. His mind was not yet developed enough to figure out reasons to his actions, motives behind what he did. At the age of two it really didn't matter.

"Glove!" He sounded out the word very carefully. So far, Luke's favorite word was "plane." Darth Vader blinked and stroked back his son's messy blond hair with his free hand.

"Yes, glove," he affirmed, and somewhat praised. "Very good."

"Glove!"

"Yes, we've already established that. Now, can we continue the lesson yet?"

The toddler scrunched up his face and began to make the high pitched whining noise that was all too often followed by tears.

"Alright, alright! No lesson! Okay, we'll take a break for a little while longer."

The boy was spoiled. Utterly spoiled. He wasn't exactly bratty per say. The things he asked for were very reasonable. Mostly he just like being around his father, he didn't ask for much. But Vader was a busy man. He didn't understand the concept that some things came far before any kind of work, no matter how important.

Or maybe he did. Just not consciously.

Maybe he knew in his heart.

Luke's furious tugging on the hand had managed to get it's owner to sit, and the toddler sat opposite, babbling some utterly nonsensical game or song that an Imperial officer had taught him while he was watching the apple of the Lord of the Sith's eye. As the boy continued with the gibberish, his father nodded, adding in "Oh really?" every once in a while, for his son's benefit. Luke took it for granted that everyone knew what he was saying. It was not an entirely often occurrence that what he said registered any meaning in the mind's of his audience, but he seemed to enjoy the rather one sided conversations.

However, the jabber stopped with another yawn. The toddler blinked, and rubbed at his eye. Crawling over closer to his father, he nudged the black arm out of the way and cuddled rather awkwardly with the Dark Lord.

"Oh, come on, Luke, don't do that…."

Too late. The boy had made himself entirely comfortable, and was determined that not only was the lesson over, but he was going to take a nap to emphasize the point. on, Luke, get up. I'm being serious. Luke, wake up! Now!

What threat could the Sith Lord possibly have that would scare the child? Half he wouldn't understand, even if they were explained to him. And, besides which, Darth Vader had never harmed a hair on his son's head, excluding pricking his finger for a blood sample. He never would, could make himself do that. Too much of a fatherly, weak heart beat in his chest. His wife had been his weakness, his darkness. He'd embraced the darkness, let the weakness go. But his son? His son was also his weakness, but he was his light. Luke was Vader's soft spot, his good nature that had been buried so many years ago. Buried with memories of Queens and Jedi.

The small hand wrapped around two of the gloved fingers, and the Lord of the Sith sighed, defeated.


	2. Boys Will Be Boys

**Boys Will Be Boys**

Lesson of the day: It was not okay to get into fist fights with sons of important Imperial Admirals.

Vader was quite aware of the fact that his son suffered from a sever lack of social skills. He hadn't grown up with other children, and he had been taught every day of his life for seven years how to pick fights and how to win them.

The small blond child was sporting a bruise on his cheek, but his opponent, Marcus Baldera, had a bloodied nose.

It had been hoped for by the father's that their sons, who both needed a friend of some sort to keep them relatively emotionally healthy, would hit it off while the sire's discussed important Imperial business.

Well, they'd hit something off.

There hadn't really been anything that had caused the fight. Just over aggression and the age old instinct that two males did not share territory – at least not without a fight. Luke's first responses to Marcus had been very quiet and shy, marking him out as an easy target, a coward, and a pushover. Luke was none of these, as he'd made very plain to Baldera's son via a bloody nose. Marcus had had a little bit more social interaction than eight year old Luke, so his manner was one of extreme confidence and pride. When insults stirred, tempers rose, and push came to shove.

And shove came to punch.

And punch came to Luke being grounded for a very long time.

A little bacta had been smeared on the smarting injury, and Luke had to keep a cold pack to his face as he sniffled slightly. When his father got angry – and boy, was he angry – life for the child became a proverbial hell, and the boy was quite aware that he was going to be in for it.

Silence reigned as Luke sat very quietly next to his father, waiting for the Sith Lord's anger to cool slightly.

"I don't suppose it would help if I apologized?"

"To who?" his sire answered gruffly. "To Baldera's son, or to me?"

Luke was not apologizing to Marcus. The bully had gotten what was coming to him, and if there was one thing Luke couldn't stand, it was a bully. Luke had a certain amount of pride. "To you."

"That would be good, as what you did was disgraceful and embarrassing. You've tarnished the Skywalker name."

That phrase was said a lot. Luke wasn't quite sure he grasped what it meant, just that it was something bad and he wasn't supposed to do it. "I'm sorry," he whispered, sniffling again.

"And why are you sorry? Do you regret trying to claw the boy's face off?"

"No," he growled, a fist clenching. "I'd do it again."

His father paused, and Luke felt he'd just said something very note worthy. "When you fight because you're angry, you draw on the Dark Side," he quoted, and Luke began to feel a little better, a little more proud.

"I did good, then. You always say it's good when I use the Dark Side."

"But not to admiral's sons."

Luke was scowling viciously, and a very dark and covert power seemed to radiate off of him. "I'd do it again. I _liked_ doing it," he growled, his hand wrapping fiercely on the cold pack.

Vader actually was pretty proud of his boy. He could handle life's knocks, which he'd had to do as a boy as well. He didn't like to think of that. It also showed the Luke had absolutely no qualms about fighting or using the Dark Side. Nor should he, with seven years of training. He showed an immense gift, and would someday make a _very _powerful Lord of the Sith.

But not quite yet.

And he was still grounded.

"Just try and cool your jets a little, alright?" Vader asked, ruffling the soft blond hair with affection. Luke stopped scowling and grinned with a loving admiration up at his father.


	3. Two Words: Puberty Sucks

**Two Words: Puberty Sucks**

Adolescence is a very awkward time. It never helps to be a Sith in training and going through that particularly awkward time. You're trying so hard to prove you're an adult – responsible, powerful.

"You're stupid!"

"No, you're stupid!"

"Well, you're stupid-er!"

"Stupider isn't a word, stupid!"

"No, you're stupid!"

But you still act like a child.

Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade were fighting. It was a customary occurrence, and had been ever since the two had first met. As regular as the moon over the misty mountains, the two argued. Constantly. About anything. They didn't even know what they argued about half the time. If Luke said that something was black, clearly it was white to Mara, and vise versa. The current argument was made worse by the fact that they were supposed to be training – of course they weren't – and that their hormones were making them act oddly.

"Look, all I'm say_ing _is-" Luke stopped and clamped his jaw shut, blush starting to rise to his cheek.

A grin spread across Mara's cheeks; ammo. "Your voice broke," she teased ruthlessly. That was happening a lot, too, and Luke couldn't wait until it found its pitch and stayed there. "_My _voice _never_ breaks," she flaunted mercilessly, flipping her red hair over her shoulder.

"At least I'm not the one bleeding all over myself."

Bad move, Skywalker. Very bad move. Rule number one of being a guy: You never upset a woman who's PMS-ing.

With a snarling cry, Jade had launched herself at Luke, and Skywalker was booking it as fast as possible away from the Force Sensitive. After a few minutes of very terrified hunting and running, Luke shielded his thoughts and slid behind a pillar. He could hear Mara's frustrated sort of growl as she sought.

"That's not fair, Luke!" she cried, stomping around the room in an effort to find him. "When I find you, I'm going to make you wish you'd never been born!"

She passed by the pillar, pausing to try and use the Force to flush her quarry. That was unnecessary. Luke tackled her from behind with a cry, and they both fell to the floor, wrestling fiercely.

"What are you two doing?"

They separated instantly and clambered to their feet as fast as anything. Mara was glaring daggers at her adversary while Luke looked at his feet.

"Nothing, Father," he said, much more placating in order to avoid punishment.

Darth Vader watched them skeptically. "Really? It didn't look like nothing."

"It was," assured his son, glancing up briefly before staring at his black shoes again.

"Didn't I tell you two to be practicing?"

"We were practicing!" piped in Mara, as much in defense of Luke as to save her own skin. They were friends. They'd never admit it, but they were all the other had of companions. The time they spent together was generally limited, but they understood each other. They were both Force users growing up with the only option they had – as Sith. That meant no outside world and no stable relationships. It meant being trained to hunt and kill better than the best bounty hunter in the galaxy. The difference was that Mara was the Emperor's Hand while Luke was an Imperial Prince. But it didn't matter. The difference of their genders was more keenly felt than their position on the Sith Social Ladder. They had the common element. They had each other.

"It certainly didn't look like practice either," Vader continued, crossing his arms. Luke shrank ever lower to the ground under the heavy stair of his father. Had it been anyone else, Jade might have accused the young Skywalker of cowardice. But this was the boy's father, and he'd have to put up with the aftermath of their little brawl long after Mara was free and clear.

"We were taking a break," Luke supplied, trying to make it sound truthful. It didn't.

"Break's over. Back to work."

The two scurried off before any sort of punishment could be dealt out. Back to where they'd begun, Luke and Mara shared a look.

"I still think you're stupid."


	4. Mother Nature has a Hold on Me

**Mother Nature has a Hold on Me**

She still remembered the first time he'd kissed her. She always would. It was a memory that couldn't die, along with the countless other brief and fleeting moments of secret and hidden passion spent in his clandestine company. It broke her heart to think about it now, now that he had ceased to care about her, now that he'd moved on. Well, it was what they'd wanted. They'd agreed, it was for the best. So why couldn't she move on? Why did it hurt so badly that he could?

They'd been dueling. A regular occurrence, as it provided some easy training. In a way, it was relaxing. They even talked as they fought, until the heat got turned up and they became more than themselves, focused entirely on the moment. Life did not exist outside the moment in those climaxes of fiery passion that only fighting brought forth. Well, she'd thought only fighting brought forth. Now she knew she was wrong.

He'd played a foul trick, causing her to trip over her own feet, and stumble to the floor. She could still hear that cocky laugh as they both turned off their lightsabers. She'd felt the rage build within her as she snarled and he just laughed.

"Guess I won again, huh, Mara?"

He circled slowly whilst she remained immobile on the smooth floor, until he came around to her head. She could see the reflection of his black boots in the polished floor, and her scowl only increased. He clipped his lightsaber back onto his belt, and knelt down, a hand out to help her up. Still glaring, she took the hand and struggled to her feet, replacing the lightsaber back onto its designated spot on her belt. However, Luke had used just a bit too much pull to help drag her to her feet, and threw off her balance. Suddenly finding herself pitching foreword again, she smacked straight into Lord Skywalker, who caught and held her for a second. Before either of them could pull apart or even say anything, Luke had tilted her head up…

And he'd kissed her.

Time in memoriam froze, and Jade felt that she never wanted it to start back up again. To both it was their first kiss. And she suddenly felt stranger than she ever had before. Her harsh and confrontational front towards him changed in that one single moment. And she wasn't sure she was quite willing to pull it back.

The kiss ended and she quickly pushed back, very consciously aware that they had done something wrong. Very wrong.

"You're really the best friend I have," he'd told her when they were a few years younger. That in and of itself was dangerous enough. Had they stopped being just friends? Were they evolving into something else entirely? And if so, at what price?

"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy that," he demanded impatiently, trying to take another step toward her. She was too stiff and surprised to stop him from reaching out for her, but when she realized he was trying to kiss her again, she very swiftly pulled away.

"Hey, knock it off." It was said with very little conviction behind it.

"You don't really mean that."

"Yes I do. We'll get in trouble with our master if we do something like that."

"I don't care."

"Yes you do, so do I. We all care. Maybe not now, but when he knows….when the punishment comes….then you care. You _have _to care."

"Do you ever think that maybe we could take him?"

She looked up sharply, stunned, only to see that he was very serious.

"Luke….that's treason."

"We could, you know. He's not that much more powerful, and I'm getting stronger, everyday-"

"Shut up, you moron, before someone hears you!"

"I don't care!" he practically shouted. "Let the whole galaxy hear! I could do it, Mara. _We _could do it."

"I don't want to hear this…I'm not hearing this…"

She covered her ears with her hands, only to be suddenly snatched up by Lord Skywalker again and rather roughly kissed.

"Now try and tell me it isn't worth a little treason."

She opened her mouth to try and say something, but was stopped with another kiss. No matter how many times she managed to gather up her far flung thoughts into a coherent sentence, he kept dashing them to pieces again. She gave up, she gave in.

"Okay….so maybe it's worth it."

And that was the scariest part: it _was_. His visits on Coruscant, their missions together – if they were being babysat by her secret boyfriend's father then they snuck somewhere relatively safe. A closet, perhaps. Whenever there was a spare moment of safety, it would be spent in each other's arms, covering each other's faces in wild and frenzied kisses. They told each other that they'd missed the other, that they had thought about their partner all the time. Whether they actually had or not was never called into question. They didn't know how little love affairs were supposed to work, so they made it up on the spot, for the most part. They said meaningless words to each other, that on occasion happened to be true. Why did they do it? The thrill, mostly. Young and hot blooded, it was fun to break the rules. The punishment was only rarely thought about, and the thought was quickly banished. They bought or made each other little presents that meant absolutely nothing, but were still wonderful to give and receive.

And then, almost very suddenly, it changed from just a child's game at love into an all consuming passion that Mara Jade could never fully let go of…

…

They'd been sent – together, and, thank the Force, alone! – to perform a discreet assassination on a Force Sensitive that appeared to be leaning more towards the Rebel faction every day. It had been surprisingly difficult, but a quick kill, and Luke and Mara, in their small but sturdy ship, were ready to take off again.

Accept that something was very wrong.

Luke flipped switches and brought up information from the computer system while Jade sat back and let him. This little ship was practically his baby, and he was near the breaking point in finding out what was the matter with her. He swore and slammed his fist down onto the arm of his chair, snarling viciously.

"Hyper drive is down, and the engine is programmed not to take off if I can't get the appropriate speed."

She gave him a funny look. "Why did you do that?"

"_I didn't_. My father did so I wouldn't just be lazy and beg for a different ship, but fix it. As if I would," he grumbled. "That man has no faith in me."

She wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say. She wanted to reach out and kiss his cheek simply because it seemed sort of like a girlfriend-ish thing to do, but she didn't. Instead, she managed "Well, can you fix it?"

"If we were at an Imperial station? Sure. But the closest one is light-years away, and I can't _get _to it if the hyper drive is out."

"Ah….so what do we do? Send in a call to Coruscant?"

He snorted. "Please. I'm not going to run crying to the emperor, or my father, for that matter, any time something goes wrong. I'm eighteen-" Luke's birthday had been just last week, "-I can handle it!"

"Okay, hot shot," she growled, not liking his independent attitude, "what do you suggest we do?"

Luke shrugged. "Find a mechanic. And a hotel. They'll probably have to hold her over night." He patted the dashboard with a sad sort of affection. "Sorry, girl." Mara felt a pang of jealousy, and quickly squashed it.

They found a mechanic, who was quick to inform them that more than just the hyper drive needed fixing. "Rear deflector's out….power couplings are practically shot…" the fat, green alien species mechanic grumbled. "This puppy will be out of commission until…"

"Until?" prompted Luke, worriedly.

The alien still thought for a moment. "I can have her to you day after tomorrow. But it'll cost ya."

"We can pay it," Luke said smoothly.

"Okay, then. Guess I'll get right to work."

Once the pair were out of the garage, however, Jade had angrily wheeled on her companion. "Don't you take care of that bucket of bolts?"

"Look, I do my best!" he shouted. "But she goes through a lot, and sometimes she'll run for ages before I even have the time to notice something's wrong!"

"What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

Now Lord Skywalker grinned. "Guess we have a bit of a vacation."

Mara Jade could only sputter.

"Hey, relax, Mara," Luke said, starting to walk, and wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in. "It'll be fun. If our master asks any questions, then we can just say we had some problems hunting down our prey."

"That's deceitful," she muttered.

"That's business," he corrected.

…

"Hey, you know what I've always wanted to do?"

They were waiting for the hotel concierge at the desk, listening to the pouring rain and booming thunder of the storm outside.

"No, Skywalker," she sighed, chewing on a tendril of her fiery hair. "Why don't you enlighten me?"

Grinning, he leaned back on the desk. "I always wanted to see how much better the honeymoon suits are as compared to the other rooms, you know? Fake having gotten married, and…."

He was looking at her funny. "What?"

A grin had spread across his not unattractive face, and she wanted to beat it off. "We should try that!"

"No we should not!" she countered stubbornly. "We'll get in trouble."

"With who?"

"With….with…" Well, there had to be someone to get into trouble with. There was _always_ someone to get into trouble with.

"Exactly," Luke smiled, and Mara Jade really hated it when he was right. "Come on, live a little. Let's give it a shot."

Mara stared at the tile floor where the water had made a small puddle. She felt very uneasy about it, and yet…it was so tempting, just because it was so taboo.

"I promise I won't let anything happen," he swore, now walking over to her and wrapping an arm around her curvy waist. "Just milk it a little," he whispered as the concierge walked in. "I love you," he purred in a very sappy tone of voice. Jade flushed, and a very slight tightening of his grip around her torso reminded her to play the game; there was no backing out now.

"N-no, I love you." What he didn't know is that she wasn't pretending when she said that. And it startled her to realize that.

"No, I think I love you-"

"Ahem!"

The concierge seemed a combination of impatient and disgusted.

"May I help you two?"

…

"This is never going to work, they'll know we're way too young to be married," she said nervously, clutching the robe she'd taken off. Luke had already discarded his soaked cloak over the back of a chair, and was now busily examining the impressive room.

"Then we eloped."

"Why?"

"Who cares why? They don't need to know why."

"But if they ask us something, then we're going to need a story to back it up."

Luke puzzled over this for a moment. "Okay…good point….Um…Well, we're a couple of reckless teenagers who's parents wouldn't let us be together, so we ran away and are headed toward…Coruscant. Starting a new life, and what not."

"Okay…." She very slowly allowed, hanging her cassock on a peg. It really was a nice room. There were a couple of very large leather chairs, and a nice loveseat. A coffee table had a vase full of flowers, and there was a small bar with a bottle of champagne. Luke had considered opening it, but Mara had shot that down. They were underage, even if no one else knew it. There was a balcony, a throw rug, and one very large bed. The sheets were a deep-

Wait….One bed?

"Ah, Luke?" she called nervously, suddenly wondering what had possessed her to

go along with this scheme of his.

"Yeah?" he called from the refresher he was examining. "Jeeze, you should see the size of the tub it's-"

"Will you shut up about the stupid tub or two seconds!" she demanded, only because she was suddenly rather frightened.

He walked out of the refresher and leaned against the wall, unbuttoning his cuffs. "What's up with you?"

"There's only one bed."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah….and? What do you think couples _do _on their wedding night, Mara? Play cards?"

"No!" she said, flushing. "But there's two of us, and-"

"I imagine there's two of them, too."

"And!" she continued, making it plain that she did not appreciate being interrupted. "And…and we're…"

He was smirking, the eyebrow still raised.

"We're all alone…."

"Nice, isn't it?"

"There's nobody here…" she whispered in wonderment. There was always somebody around. Suddenly, they didn't have to hide anything. It was like there own little world, reserved for them and for no one else. Thunder cracked outside the window. Their literal port in the storm.

"That's right," he said, walking towards her. "There's nobody here."

He drew her close to him and began to kiss her in the way that made her knees go weak until she finally pushed him off.

"We should probably call the desk for a cot, or something."

Luke snorted angrily. "Great idea. That'll make us seem even more truthful. A married couple who doesn't want to have sex. Look, we don't have to _do _anything, just sleep, and-"

"It wouldn't be right!" she protested, the training the emperor had given her screaming inside. She was suddenly very nervous and excited, and it confused her.

"Why not?" he demanded. "I mean, we _are_ married."

"How the hell do you figure that!"

"They think we are. We're pretending we are. A little consummation wouldn't hurt."

"Your logic is insane! We don't _have _to. We can just pretend we had a fight, and…"

The look he was giving her made the words run dry. It was a deep, sort of passionate gaze, and he had never looked at her that way before.

"Luke?"

He didn't respond. He'd very calmly walked up to her again and pulled her against him. As he whispered huskily in her ear, his hot breath made her skin rise in goose flesh.

"Just one night."

"I don't think we should…."

"But do you want to?"

Her breathing had sped up a little as he very slowly kissed her. But she pushed away again. Sighing, Lord Skywalker had appeared to have given up.

"Okay, that's cool. I guess if you really don't want to, we don't have-"

He was stopped as she had suddenly flung her arms around his neck and was passionately kissing him. His surprise gave way into a cocky grin, as he wrapped his own arms around her torso.

"Or we could make love, yeah, that's always an option."

He scooped her up and walked over to the bed, her lithe frame absolutely no burden to him. He very gently laid her down, brushing a lock of her fire hair from her emerald eyes. Another boom of thunder outside the window made her jump slightly, but it was Lord Skywalker's loving caress that made her tremble.

"Nothing's going to happen, you won't get into any trouble," he whispered soothingly. "I promise." And she believed him.

She told him that she loved him that night as he lie, now stripped bare, beside her. His grip around her tightened slightly, and he sleepily planted a kiss on her soft hair.

"Yeah, I know you do," he muttered, and she clung to him all the more.

"No, I'm being serious."

"Me too," he whispered as he yawned and lay back. "Enough pillow talk, okay?"

"Okay."

He was asleep far before she was. His breath made a lock of her hair move in a regular tempo, and she found that she enjoyed watching him sleep. It was very soothing. Settling down next to him, she kissed him briefly before closing her eyes, and falling asleep.

…

The beginning of the day was spent a little awkwardly. That was because the boundaries of what they could and could not do had been pushed to their limit and broken. They'd shared something very dark and deep, and didn't know what that meant. They didn't know how to act around each other.

It didn't last long. Luke was a smooth guy, and whilst he didn't treat the situation as if everything were still the same, he knew how to put her at ease.

They checked back at the garage, but the mechanic stuck to his previous statement – tomorrow, and no sooner. So, they spent the day bumming around the planet, checking out the sites and sounds of the city. A market square was up, and the dock was bringing in fishing boats.

"Does it always smell like fish on this Force forsaken planet," she complained, leaning against the railing.

"Probably," commented Luke, flicking a piece of dust from off his sleeve. "Yesterday it just smelled like rain."

They shared a look, and he wrapped and arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Yesterday was nice," she whispered, and he kissed her head.

"Yes, it was."

The present wasn't bad either. He bought her flowers, gallantly, and in his own way, jokingly making a big show of them. The sun was burning off the puddles left by yesterday's rain, and once they'd had their fill of the sites and sounds, they checked back in at the garage – the prognoses was still the same – before heading back to their hotel room. The concierge smiled at them welcomingly at the desk, and this time they didn't have to pretend to look like they were in love.

They discarded the trifles they'd bought on the table, and Luke collapsed into a chair, talking absent mindedly to the girl while she had dug out her comb and was attacking the knots that had worked their way into her wavy red hair.

"So, let's take a little break and then pick something up to eat later. Then we can head back here, get some sleep, and then pick up the ship the next morning. Sound good?" He noted that she didn't seem to be listening. "Mara?" he turned in his chair, only to find that she'd wrapped her arms around his neck. She was suddenly settled onto his lap, his arms wrapped around her waist. He paused in his ministrations to her only to smile and kiss her forehead. "Force, I love you." And he meant it, too.

…

They'd had their break, they ate a little bit of food only because they were hungry, and then rushed right back into the hotel room. The night was spent in blissful and ignorant passion, and the dawn had come all too soon. They picked up the ship, and it threw Luke off that Mara was in such a sudden, terrible mood.

"What is going on inside that head of yours?" he finally demanded, as her glowering was making him uneasy.

She glanced at him, and her green eyes softened just a little. "Guess I just liked our vacation a little too much."

He grinned, leaned over, and gave her a quick kiss. She tried to draw it out and incite more from her lover, but he stopped her. "Hey, look, we should probably try and cool our jets a little. You know, keep it under wraps a bit."

"I don't want to," she protested, and leaned in to kiss him again, but he stopped her.

"I know you don't. But we still should."

"I love you, Luke Skywalker."

"I know."

And that was that. They occasionally snuck in moments for their little tryst, but it became apparently obvious that they could no longer take the risks of being together. She'd had to stuff him into her closet, at one point, in order to escape detection. After that particularly terrifying moment, they'd both agreed that it could no longer be chanced.

"So, um," she said, trying to be the responsible partner, "I guess we should just call it off."

"Yeah, I guess so," agreed Luke.

"Okay."

"Okay."

She'd felt like her heart was breaking. She'd wanted to cry and throw a temper tantrum, and demand that he hold her close and never let her go. She knew he had to be passive about it, but that didn't mean she wanted him to be.

He never realized just how much she loved him.

So they agreed to move on, and he did exactly that. He moved on, and a few months later he fell in love with Leia Organa. With _Organa _of all the people in the world! With that spoiled rotten little….princess! There was no other name for it! He'd cast his passionate lover off like an ill fitting glove – under the ill fitting glove's orders – and found another glove entirely! And the former glove was just burning with terrible jealousy. That was because she hadn't moved on. She felt as though she maybe never would. She adored him, and no matter how she told herself otherwise, she knew she always would.

And then he was supposed to be dead…..She'd cried for two hours once she'd found time to be alone when she discovered he was dead.

But he wasn't dead. He was a rebel and a Jedi. That was almost worse than death. That was just suicide. He'd signed his own warrant on that one.

_How could you pull this one, Luke? How could you do this to the emperor and to your father and…_

And to her.

Despite that she'd told Vader that he couldn't possibly kill his own son, that she wouldn't let him, her rage had built at the idea of his terrible betrayal. Finally, she gave into the hate. She could only fight truth for so long. Luke could've, should've come back. Maybe everything would have been okay then. But she doubted it. In the end, she was more certain that she was just fooling herself.

"Fine," she sighed to herself, practicing her lightsaber training – but now alone. "Fine. You called the shots on this one. If I see you, I will kill you. And I will not look back, and I will not regret it for a single instant." Why? Because he'd broken her heart. And that was just unforgivable.


	5. Crossroads

**Crossroads**

**A.N.: To start with, Don McLean has to be one of the greatest singer/songwriters of all time. I love his lyrics, I love his tunes. Yes, we all know American Pie was good, but his other songs are so wonderful that it is almost a shame American Pie is as successful as it is, since it overshadows the other works of beauty. So, obviously, this is dedicated to Don McLean.**

**I really wanted to write a song fic, and this song was appealing to me. Originally, my idea was to make it sort of a thing between Luke and Leia; Luke's way of saying "I'm aching, get me through this." And I could still write it and have it work. But the more closely I listened to the song, I decided against it. When it talks about removing darkness from the soul, it is, to me, obviously Luke's appeal to someone, but not to Leia. Leia can't take away Luke's darkness. She adds to it, if anything. But, I know a certain Jedi who can and did take away Luke's darkness. So, whilst it was always from Luke's point of view, there's a little insight on to how my mind works. **

**This is a songfic, based on the song "Crossroads," by Don McLean. I use it without permission. Enjoy!**

_I've got nothing on my mind_

_Nothing to remember_

_Nothing to forget_

_And I've got nothing to regret_

Luke sighed, pillowing his head on his arms. The days waiting until a new planet to establish a rebel base on were tedious, spent in apathetic melancholy. He liked Yavin IV. It was so much more beautiful than any other planet he'd been forced to undergo. He didn't want to leave.

His mind an empty shell, he rolled over, and shut his eyes, trying to drive an aching hum from his tired skull. Nothing helped. He was sorely tempted to get up and go talk to someone. The idea of talking to Leia burned like a bonfire in his mind. His heart sped up and his palms started sweating at the mere thought of her. It wasn't taboo, she'd made it plain that she liked spending time with him, and wanted to be his friend. But that was it. Sleepless nights were often spent in each other's company, talking about absolutely anything. The only thing he kept hidden from her was his catharsis on Tatooine, which he'd managed to explain in sparse detail, and the golden month spent in the company of his dead master. That was something he'd rather not talk about. It was his secret treasure. He didn't want to share it.

He didn't get up to see Leia as she was busy with the rest of the rebel commanders trying to pick a new rebel base in a hurry. Wedge was enjoyable to talk with, and he cold get some brief and thin solace from Han, but the more he thought about it, the more the idea of talking with the girl he still liked to consider as his fiancée was far more appealing.

_But I'm all tied up on the inside_

_No one knows quite what I've got_

_And I know that on the outside_

_What I used to be, I'm not…anymore_

Rising, he slid into his clothes and out his door. Mechanically, his feet took him to Leia's room; it required no thought, his feet knew the path practically instinctively. He hesitated when he reached the door, unsure of why he'd decided to get up, but knocked anyway.

After a moment's pause, Leia opened the door, her soft brown hair tied into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She'd just changed for bed, and held a mug in one hand, balancing a tray of cold food on her hip.

"Hey," she said, yawning sleepily.

"Hey."

These midnight visits were now so common, so comforting, and so customary that she never questioned them, and almost came to look foreword to them. She understood him, understood that he just needed a little extra loving care, and that she was the only one who could provide it. She did it because she cared about him.

"Come on in," she yawned again, moving away from the door. "I was just going to eat and go to bed. Have you had anything to eat?"

"Not since yesterday."

"Luke," she scolded, scowling at him.

He grinned sheepishly at her and tried to brush it off. "I haven't been hungry."

"You're never hungry."

"No."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't eat."

He sat on the edge of the bed as she scurried about her quarters in a sleepy manner, occasionally interrupting her sentences with a bite at the stuff on the tray.

"Decided where we're headed now?" he tactfully changed the subject.

"We're going to decide tomorrow," she replied, settling into a chair that faced him.

"That's too bad," he muttered, staring at the floor.

"It's either that," she scolded, "or we stay to be shot like fish in a barrel by the Empire."

Now he shuddered. "I know. That's why I'm not as upset as I could be."

"It'll have been three days since you…well….became a hero to everyone soon. We're pushing our luck staying here."

"I know."

"Are you okay?"

He looked up at her, a very depressed and bland expression on his face. "Am I ever?"

"People really respect you now, Luke. I'd think it'd make you happy."

"Nothing makes me happy….well, except for you." He glanced shyly at her only to be met with a stern look.

"I told you to knock that off."

"I am knocking it off."

"No, you're not."

"Sorry. I try."

"Yes, I know."

_You know, I've heard about people like me_

_But I never made the connection_

_They walk one road to set them free_

_And find they've gone the wrong direction._

"What time did you go to bed?" she asked with a yawn.

"I dunno. A while ago."

"What time did you fall asleep?"

"I didn't."

She sat foreword in the chair, gazing slightly worriedly at him. "Yeah, I thought so…..How about yesterday."

"I didn't sleep then, either."

"You never do sleep, do you?"

"Not if I can help it."

"Luke!"

He shook his head. "I see too many things when I sleep….Master Obi Wan…Those people on Tatooine….My mother…My father…The Death Star…Oh, Force, the Death Star….I can't stand it. They can't get me if I don't sleep."

"You look exhausted," she said, getting up and walking to him, grabbing his chin delicately with her hands. She ran a gentle finger across the dark bags under his eyes, and examined his blood shot blue eyes for a moment before shaking her head. "You really ought to get a little sleep. Especially before the move. Go down to the medical ward, they'll fix you up. Put you out like a light."

"I don't want that either."

She released his head and sat back in her chair. "Do you regret it? Is that why?"

"I'm not sure."

"Would you change anything if you could?"

"Oh yes. I'd be dead."

She paled. "Luke, please don't say that."

"Alright, then Master Obi Wan would still be alive."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "That still doesn't help. You still shouldn't say that either."

"In that case, no. It doesn't matter."

_But there's no need for turning back_

'_Cause all roads lead to where I stand_

_And I believe I'll walk them all_

_No matter what I may have planned._

She finished off the food and drink and yawned again. "I hate to kick you out, but….I really am exhausted."

"Sure, I understand," he said, rising and smiling at her. "I just feel better when I'm around you. Like maybe I could go to sleep."

"Try to. Please?"

"Is that an order?"

"Yes. An order because I love you." His eyes lit up, and she cursed her carelessness. Love was one of those words that suffered from over kill. "I don't mean it like that. I meant…"

"I know what you meant. You just kind of had my hopes up for a second."

"I'm not trying to tease you, Luke. I'm not like that."

"I know you're not. You're wonderful. I love you. And I do mean it like that."

"I told you to forget it."

"What if I can't?"

"Give it a shot. Now, go follow orders. Go to bed."

He wanted her so badly that it killed him. He very carefully walked away and didn't look at her. Simply said goodnight and walked out the door. Mechanically he walked back to his room, and climbed into bed. Sleep came just a little bit easier, but he regretted it when it did.

_Can you remember who I was?_

_Can you still feel it?_

_Can you find my pain?_

_Can you heal it?_

_Then lay your hands upon me now_

_And cast this darkness from my soul_

_You alone can light my way_

_You alone can make me whole…once again_

In that torturous sleep, that bitter sweet dreaming, he dreamed of one thing more constant than anything else, and that was his master. Luke had relived a thousand times the moment when the shadow had passed over his face, the anger, the confusion, and the worst part of all, the terrible, passionate, crazed sorrow. He'd extracted each moment spent in Obi Wan's company. He'd memorized all the words spoken so that they were burned onto his soul, impossible to forget. Forgetting seemed an unforgivable travesty.

In the throws of one of those terrible, horrendous nightmares, Luke twitched and twittered, glossy tears sliding down his cheeks, leaving dark trails in their wake. His limbs were tangled in the winding sheets, his breath was quick, his heart was beating a crazy tattoo as he tried harder and harder to end this demon dream….

"I want to be a Jedi, _Master_ Obi Wan."

He remembered the words, when they'd been said. But instead of finding himself kneeling in the sand and cradling a burning corpse, he was back at Kenobi's small house, sitting, talking, as they had often done while they waited for Luke's ribs to heal.

Only they weren't talking about anything that Luke had ever remembered talking about. They…were talking about how the old man had died.

"It just isn't fair," Padawan Skywalker sniffled, leaning against the table in a melancholy mood. "Why did you have to go away? Why did you have to leave me?"

"Luke," the Jedi was explaining patiently. "Sometimes things that are for the best don't seem like it at the time. I _had_ to leave."

The boy gave him a piercing stare. "I needed you here."

The old Jedi sighed, nodding. "I know you did, but there's nothing I can do. I'm afraid you'll have to move on.'

"What if I don't _want_ to move on? Can you even understand? I love you, Master Obi Wan. I am more devoted to you than anyone else I've ever met. I would sooner die than live without you."

"You must go on, Luke. Even in the face of insurmountable pain, you must be strong."

"I can't be. Not without you. You _saved_ me, Master Obi Wan. You filled my soul with light, you made me so happy."

_We've walked both sides of every street_

_And through all kinds of windy weather_

_But that was never our defeat_

_So long as we could walk together_

Obi Wan smiled sadly, touched. "I am very glad to know I meant that much to you."

"And what did I mean to you?"

"Everything. That's why I died for you."

Here Luke paused again. "I wish you hadn't."

"If wishes were fishes the oceans would be too full."

Luke couldn't help but laugh at that. "Where did you hear that?"

Kenobi laughed too. "Force, I don't know. I just picked it up somewhere."

There was a calm, steady, happy silence and they smiled at each other. "I miss these times with you," Luke whispered, and the old man nodded.

"And so do I."

"You were the only one who could save me, Master."

"And I did. But now you must save yourself. My part is over."

"But I-"

"You must be strong, Luke. You must."

_So there's no need for turning back_

'_Cause all roads lead to where we stand_

_And I believe we'll walk them all…._

Luke awoke again, dried tear trails on his cheeks, his bed a mess. Grumbling, he glanced at the chrono. Morning. It would be time to start packing soon. Carefully, he extradited himself from the tangled bed linens, stretching and rubbing at his face. He had to be strong. Could he be strong? Maybe. The endless pain tortured him. But he was a survivor. And always would be. If not for himself, if not for his new friends, for the memory of his master. That outweighed everything else.

…_No matter what we may have planned…._


	6. In Eyes Made Far Wiser by Time

**In Eyes Made Far Wiser by Time**

Luke was pouting again, a signal that he was furious with his father. As Luke generally hero worshiped the man, this meant that he was mad about two things, and there were only two things the fifteen year old was ever mad about.

"Look," explained his father, who was busily organizing the room the way he preferred it, "I know you don't like Coruscant, but it's practically the center of the universe. There are times we simply _have _to be here."

Luke was staring out the window, his arms crossed and resting on the window pane, his head sunk to meet them. He blinked slightly sleepy eyes, watching the busy neon of the city. The activity both revolted him and fascinated him at once. He longed to be down there, and yet the idea seemed far beneath him. So torn, it confused him as to where he actually wanted to be – in the lavish apartment with his father, a noble and mature Imperial Prince, or a wild thing of the night outside, actually _living_.

In the distant fading glow of fluorescent lights and speeder head lights, Luke could just make out the dilapidated silhouette of the ancient Jedi Temple, which now lay in crumbling pieces. He distantly noted that his father had helped to destroy it. He shrugged. What did that matter?

Dislike was not near a strong enough word to describe Luke's feelings toward Coruscant. He _hated_ it passionately. He got sick at the thought of coming, despised the Emperor, and could see very few valid reasons for staying at all.

Well, there was _one _reason…..

Luke grunted in response to his father, and Darth Vader took it as a sign to continue. "I mean, it is our home."

Luke's bent shoulders stiffened. He didn't turn around, but in a voice that he managed to make audible denied "No it's not. It's not home."

"We spend most of our time here," Vader countered.

"We spend most of our time in space. This is just a rest stop we frequent to keep His Majesty happy." He was careful to refer to Palpatine respectfully when either on Coruscant or mentioning something he disliked that somehow involved the emperor.

"Luke…" his father growled in a warning voice. Luke's incessant need to argue had only grown worse as he neared adulthood. Fifteen and soon to be sixteen, he was both eager and terrified at the prospect of having the strings that chained him to his father like a leash cut.

Vader might have admonished him, but he sensed that Luke was being more than just a moody teenager. He was deeply saddened by something. Did being on Coruscant effect him that much? Well, that was one of two things that usually did it.

The Lord of the Sith walked closer to his son, gently and uncharacteristically smoothing back a lock of his blond hair that stuck out at an odd angle. For however much the boy looked like his father had, he could always manage to make the Dark Lord think of his wife.

Deciding to bargain, he offered "I don't like it much either. Too many memories."

Luke's eyes widened and his heartbeat sped up; a golden opportunity. Turning around he asked, not bothering to hide the hope in his voice, "Why? What do you remember."

Vader realized all too late that bargaining was a mistake, and quickly turned back to his task.

"Was it the Jedi Order? Do you remember the old Republic?" Being successfully ignored only badgered the young man, so he went right in for the target. "Was it mother?"

That made Vader pause involuntarily, and Luke knew the arrow had struck. Now turning his chair entirely around, the excited line of questioning only got worse. "Was she a senator here? Did you meet her when she was still a queen?" Luke had been offered little about his mother; she'd defied the Empire, and that was an unforgivable crime. She'd also been a queen somewhere. And that was the extent of his knowledge. "Was she just a citizen on Coruscant?" When none of his questions were answered, Luke resorted to begging. "Please, Father."

The displeasure Luke keenly felt through the Force made him aware that it wasn't going to work. Angered again, he turned back to the window, making it very clear to his father that he would remained shunned until he was given some harmless kernel of something. He didn't care if all he got was her blood type, it was still _hers_, and therefore something special.

Still trying to end the distance between them, Vader sighed, and gave just a little ground. "She was…." Luke perked up visibly, "….very beautiful."

That was all. Not quite a precise detail, nor what he'd been looking for, but the young Imperial Prince would take it. Deciding that a little boldness would do no harm, he asked "When did you meet her?"

"Not right now, Luke." That clearly meant that questions were to be done, but the Sith Apprentice wasn't giving up.

"How old were you?"

"I said enough."

Luke gave in, trying to imagine what his mother looked like. Very beautiful described a lot of women. Rising, the boy stretched, yawning. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

His father nodded. "That's fine."

There was a pause where Luke simply refused to leave the room. "What color was her hair?"

"Go to bed!"

…

"And, in conclusion, I-"

"Lord Skywalker? At a meeting of the Galactic Senate? Don't you think that's a bit too intelligent for you?"

Luke didn't turn around, absorbed in watching the senator from Mon Calamari. At great length, he finally said "Hello, Mara," but it came out a husky whisper she barely heard. However, she accepted it as the only greeting she'd get, and, shrugging, pulled a chair over.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, leaning an elbow against the counter rail.

"The Senate is debating a course of action against the spice smugglers that are running rampant across the galaxy."

Mara replied with a simple, "Oh," which meant she found the subject boring.

As though he could some how make it more interesting in this way, Luke offered, "Father says that when the Senate debates something, nothing ever gets done. That's why Emperor Palpatine is in control, to make sure things are handled justly and fairly."

Mention of the emperor, whom Mara followed devotedly, did spark her interest, but only briefly. "Yes, he does a good job of that."

Just to gauge a reaction and get a rise from the teenage girl, he added "And then, eventually, that will be my father's job. And then my job."

Mara stiffened at that. "Emperor Palpatine's not going anywhere."

"No one lives forever, Mara. I'm not saying I'm eager, or anything, I'm just saying it's going to happen." Carefully, he continued, "And when that happens, you'll be father's Hand. I guess that means you'll be my Hand someday, too." Grinning, he leaned back in the chair, his interest in what the senators had to say momentarily forgotten as the senator from Dantooine stepped up. "That means you'll have to do what I tell you to."

She shot him a hot glare, which only made him grin more. "Don't even go there, Skywalker. I'd just as soon kiss a Jawa."

He wrinkled his nose at that, but his smile didn't fade. "Anyway," he continued, flicking an imaginary piece of dust from his sleeve as he changed the subject, "I thought you didn't like going to meetings of the Senate?"

"Neither do you," she pointed out, and young Lord Skywalker shrugged.

"I don't have anything else to do today, and I made it clear to father that I wasn't going to follow him around until he told me something about mother. Besides, I think they ought to do something about the spice smugglers."

Mara ignored the last part, as it still didn't interest her, and dove straight in for the main point of the sentence. "Why do you care so much? It's not like you ever met, or ever will."

Luke bristled visibly, and Mara slightly regretted having said that. His mother meant a lot to Luke, and maybe she should be more considerate of that. "Maybe you should try thinking before you just open your mouth, Mara. I know _you _don't care about your heredity, but my mother means something to me."

She gave in, lowering her emerald eyes. "Sorry."

"Yeah," he allowed, still fuming, and turned back to the meeting. He politely applauded as the senator took her seat again, though he'd entirely missed what she'd said. Next up was….ah, it would be Senator Bail Organa, of Alderaan. He'd met him once or twice. His father tried not to talk with him too much, but Luke had found the man to be a good conversationalist, with very interesting ideas. His daughter didn't seem so promising, but he had found out she was very good at oratory. Maybe there was something to look foreword to in her, it just needed being brought out.

"Can we go yet?" she whined, and Luke waved her off. Senator Organa's speeches were generally treasure's not to be missed.

_Luke, let's go already!_

The stiff wave of annoyance he sent her through the Force managed to get her to ebb off, but she still sat, glaring at him and pouting.

"My fellow senators, I believe that…."

…

When Senator Organa's fiery speech ended, so did the meeting of the senate. Greeted with enthusiastic cheers, Luke was so bold as to give a standing ovation. Mara merely said the boy looked like a fool.

He finally gave in to her angry requests to leave, and talked with her on his way out the doors. Trying to explain to her why the spice smuggler's had made him briefly interested in the senate, he was interrupted when he caught sight of Senator Organa again.

"Oh, look, let's go talk to him!"

"No, Luke, come on," Mara pleaded, grabbing his arm. For a moment, it seemed as Luke would not be stopped, but he did give in, slightly disappointed.

"Yeah, you're right, he's talking to someone else."

"Who is she?" Mara asked, glancing curiously at the brown haired teenager who had come bounding up to the senator excitedly.

"Umm…It looks like Princess Leia Organa," he offered, hooking arms with the red head.

"Ugh, not terribly pretty, is she?"

"Mara!"

"What? I'm just saying what we're both thinking."

Actually, Luke had to admit that he had been thinking along the same lines. Princess Organa was not terribly pretty. Personality wise, of course, he wasn't sure. But he highly doubted she'd ever be stunning.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Hm?" Luke turned his attention back to the girl his arm was linked to, who really was stunning.

"I said," she huffed, shoving a lock of unruly red hair behind her ear – a motion which momentarily distracted Luke again (he'd been feeling so odd around Mara lately) – "Have you seen the new work on your father's Star Destroyer yet?"

Luke blinked, slightly surprised any work was being done on it at all. With the Death Star requiring so much construction, ninety percent of all the work force was busy there. "No, not yet." Eagerly, he asked, "What have the added."

"Not much," she shrugged. "They're still working on the control paneling."

"Still? That's what they were working on last time!"

"They had an electronic difficulty. They practically had to take the whole thing apart and rebuild it to find what was the matter with it."

"Well, what was the matter with it." She merely shrugged again, and Luke was annoyingly reminded that the Emperor's Hand did not share his love of electronics in the same passionate way he and his father did. Still, there was very few similarities between Mara and his father at all. And he was sometimes very grateful for that.

Mara occasionally made a better listening ear than his father. Especially when the problem was his father, like now. And as she lead him nonchalantly and easy down to the ship yards, Luke couldn't help but smile, and paused her for a moment.

"You're really the best friend I have. Do you know that?"

She'd been so surprised, she could only stare at him for a moment, before she blushed and mumbled that they'd better get going.

**The End**


	7. Make Them Hear

**Make Them Hear You**

**A.N.: The song "Make Them Hear You," is from the musical "Ragtime," by Lynn Ahrens and Stephen Flaherty. **

_Go out and tell our story_

_Let it echo far and wide_

_Make them hear you_

_Make them hear you_

_How justice was our battle_

_And how justice was denied_

_Make them hear you_

_Make them hear you_

The day was drawing to a close. The sun sinking ever lower, ever lower, and lower still in the sky above Yavin IV gave loud testimony to that. Below the sky, testimony was being given to the brave men that had rallied in defense of the Rebellion.

The brave men that had not made it back after the destruction of the Death Star.

With a few final words of solace and hope, the service was concluded, and people walked off in sullen bunches.

Except one.

For a good quarter of a standard hour, Luke Skywalker stood near motionless and examined the tombstones, occasionally pacing around the perimeter of the earth that had been torn apart to collect the bodies. They'd lived life out loud, and they died with equal splendor and valor. Luke could only hope that when his own time came, it would be doing something equally courageous. The idea of a peaceful death in his sleep did not appeal, not to him, a man of action.

He hadn't really gotten to know most of them. He supposed now he never would. It was really too bad. They'd probably been nice guys. Somebody's brother, somebody's son. They might have been someone's father, or cousin, or uncle, or husband. There might be a mother receiving a letter with the heading "We regret to inform you that your son passed away in the line of duty." Volunteer work, all of it. They had _volunteered _to die. They'd known the dangers, they'd paid the ultimate price.

_"I'm not afraid."_

_"To die? No. But you're afraid of something, and I'm going to find out what."_

He was not afraid of death, but of what the death of others did to him.

_Master…._

"Luke?"

_And say to those who blame us_

_For the way we chose to fight_

_That sometimes there are battles_

_That are more than black or white_

_And I could not put down my sword_

_When justice was my right_

_Make them hear you_

_Make them hear you_

He tore his eyes from the grave markers to a much more favorable sight; Leia.

"Are you going to come in now?" she asked him worriedly, taking a few steps closer to him.

"I don't know."

"Would you like some company?"

"From you? Always."

Taking his hand, she lead him to a large rock, and there they sat, watching the horizon as the golden coin sun melted slowly down the heavens. And as the sun crept across the sky, it burned the very air, which lit afire. A sun so hot as to burn the sky to black of night.

She sighed, closing her eyes against the bright light for a moment. "So….Tomorrow we'll start choosing a new base."

"That's too bad. I really like it here." He paused to look around him appreciatively, soaking it all in. "It's so much prettier than any place I've ever seen."

"Oh, but, Luke," she protested. "You were the Imperial Prince. You must have lived in dozens of fascinating and interesting places."

"That's exactly the problem," he explained. "There were dozens. No place to plant some roots and watch them grow. Every six months to a year or even sooner than that it was time to pack up move on. Tons of places, beautiful places, rich places, powerful places. I couldn't stand them. I couldn't, because….as soon as I began to like them, or felt easy in them – not constantly on the watch, knew where I was, what my boundaries were – they changed all over again."

_Go out and tell our story_

_To your daughters and your sons_

_Make them hear you_

_Make them hear you_

_And tell them in our struggle_

_We were not the only ones_

_Make them hear you_

_Make them hear you_

"We were in space for the most part. And if we weren't there…." He shuddered suddenly, his eyes taking on a black and far away look to them. It seemed to Leia he was lost in some private hell that no one could ever go with him into. No one….except Obi-Wan, who'd been so willing to carry the burden of Luke's nightmares. No one else had the strength to do that, maybe not even Luke's own father. So that made Luke's attachment to Kenobi even more than a Padawan, more than a son, more than anything Leia could liken it to or understand.

"Coruscant," he whispered, quite terrified as though it were looming right around the corner. "Coruscant…Oh, Force, I…." He chocked back tears, remained as composed as he possibly could. "I hated it there…so much…..It was like….I can't even describe it. It was like being sucked into a black hole. It was _hell_." He shivered again, his voice gaining strength. "And I'm never going back there. _Ever_. I'll die first." He paused to glance at her, not worshiping, or condescending. Rather impatiently expecting, which was odd for him. "And you? I suppose you spent most of your life on Alderaan."

Her throat tightened instinctively, and it always had, ever since she'd had to watch her home be blown to bits. Watch as millions of people died. Watch as….they murdered her father….

True enough, Bail Organa was her adopted father. She'd been told that many times. But, he'd always promised, that didn't matter, because he loved her just as much as if she really was his biological daughter. It didn't matter that they didn't look the same. They loved each other, that was all that counted ever.

She'd never hear that again.

_Your sword can be a sermon_

_Or the power of the pen_

_Teach every child to raise his voice_

_And then my brothers, then_

_Will justice be demanded by ten million righteous men!_

_Make them hear you…._

She chocked back the threatening tears before nodding. "Yes, that's right."

"What was it like."

"It was….beautiful. Elegant, graceful. Warm in summer, but never too warm to stand. It wasn't humid. I don't know, Luke….I don't know how to describe something like that. It was just….you felt….It was home."

He shook his head. "I'm afraid that doesn't clarify it. I've never felt at home. I've never belonged anywhere."

She covered his hand with hers, and he stared at her, surprised. "You belong here."

He smiled slightly until he realized that speaking of Alderaan had upset her. He wiped away one of the tears that had managed to slip through her barricade, kissing her forehead in a chaste manner. She did not object.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know you didn't."

"I would never want to see you hurting."

"I know you wouldn't."

He paused for a moment, staring at the tomb stones before staring at her again. "I want to…apologize to you. I never really paused to consider that other people had lost someone in the aftermath of Alderaan."

She squeezed his hand, smiling. "Always forgiven. Everything's forgivable."

He smiled, helping her off. "Come on, sun's set. We'd better go inside." They paused to nod respectfully to the grave stones once more, a symbol of protecting other planets from sharing the fate of Alderaan.

_When they hear you_

_I'll be near you_

_Again!_

**The End**


	8. Mistrust and Danger

**Mistrust and Danger**

**A.N.: For "Where Am I Going To?" I find I'm miring myself in things I never intended. I'm not much for EU, I'm a very big Original Trilogy person myself. And yet, no matter what I originally planned, I seem to be making WAIGT more and more complicated as time goes on. It's not a bad thing. It gives the story more depth and range. But it does mean extra work for me.**

**This is my first time writing Xizor, and my experience is nilch. I'm trying desperately to get my hands on a copy of Shadows of the Empire with little success. Maybe I'll look back on this and cringe, who knows. Until then, any advice is, as always, greatly appreciated. Why didn't I wait to read more before writing this? Plot bunnies, my friends, plot bunnies…..**

"I don't like Prince Xizor."

The comment was not entirely random. Both Vader and Xizor were meeting with Palpatine, and both of the young Force users had been banished from the throne room. Mara hadn't dared protest. Luke didn't want to. He was gloomily slumped in a chair, staring out into nothing while Jade idly looked through a data pad. However, his sudden remark did make her look up, curious, and she pushed her unruly hair out of her eyes.

"Most people don't, I imagine," she replied with a shrug.

"Except the emperor."

Now she smiled, nodding. "Yes, so I am predisposed to like him."

Luke sneered. "You're crazy."

She scowled. "You're only inclination to dislike him is because your father does."

Luke stared at the floor for a moment, rubbing nervously at his arm. "I don't deny that my father's feelings help to solidify my own, but it's more than that. It's…"

Intrigued, she leaned foreword. "It's…?"

Lord Skywalker shook his head. "No, I'd rather not talk about it."

Mara scowled curiously at him, leaning back in her chair. Finally, she shrugged and said, "He's really terribly attractive, though."

Was she trying to make him jealous? It wasn't like seventeen year old Luke really felt that way about her. Oh, she was attractive, but she was his friend. It might be better to keep it like that.

Might be.

He merely sneered at that. "He's a Falleen, he just reeks of pheromones is all."

Mara shrugged. "Call it base and instinctual, but it works."

"Fine," he allowed. "Then I will call it base and instinctual and feel sorry for you that you're stuck on the bastard."

Mara sparked to this. "I do _not _have a crush on some Black Sun trash!"

"Just base and instinctual desires."

"Well….quite a few women do. It's not serious, I'm not interested in him."

Luke had merely slumped further into his chair. "Whatever."

She looked at him funny. Something wasn't right. "What's the matter with you? What don't you like about Xizor."

Luke stood up, turning his back to Mara briefly before rotating so she could see him in profile. He was rubbing his arms, which he did when he was nervous. And Luke was so rarely nervous.

"When I was little….I couldn't have been more than nine…he…"

Mara stood up, drawing carefully closer to her friend. "He what?"

Luke laughed nervously. "Well, I can't say that he actually _did _anything to me. He didn't hurt me physically. He really didn't do anything mentally. It was just…."

She placed a hand on his shoulder, but even from that she could feel his furiously pumping heart. "Just?" she encouraged soothingly.

Luke closed his eyes momentarily, and whispered, "A premonition, only so much worse."

She blinked. "Nothing's worse than a premonition."

"This was… I don't really remember what happened, just the way I felt. It was…unnatural. I felt rooted to the spot, I felt….afraid." And Luke was afraid of practically nothing. "I don't even remember what it was he said to me. He just bent down real low so I could see his lavender eyes. Lavender! The color was unnerving. He must have said something, but for the life of me I can't remember what. And he dragged his claw along my jaw bone. It didn't leave so much as a mark, but I was so afraid. I don't know why, but something was telling me to be afraid. The Force, instinct, I don't know…" He shivered, turning to look at Mara with his large, opaque eyes. She blinked and pushed a lock of hair away from the icy blue eyes, pulling him back onto the couch he'd been brooding on.

"I don't understand it either," she whispered. "Are you sure that's all?"

He leaned his head on his best friend's shoulder, and sighed. "Whatever's left is buried somewhere. And I sincerely hope it stays that way….."

…

"Prince Xizor?"

The elegant Falleen male wheeled slowly around, his face a mask of disgust and discontent. The Coruscant Imperial Palace was lavish, but not to Xizor's taste. Everything in it felt black, yet unrefined. It felt rich, but not opulent. It felt...over used.

The voice that had addressed him was that of a nine year old child with blond hair and pale blue eyes. Dressed completely in black from head to foot, the small boy was standing expectantly, arms folded behind his back. What was a child doing in the Imperial Palace?

Seeming satisfied now that the Black Sun leader's attention was on him, the thing sucked in a breath and reported, "The emperor will see you shortly, and my father requests that you wait here a moment."

The fastidious reptilian raised a finely arched eyebrow and asked, "And who might you be?"

The boy seemed mortally offended, and blinked, his temper flaring briefly up. "Luke Skywalker," he snarled. As if that really meant anything to Xizor. He added, "I am the Imperial Prince, and the future Lord of the Sith and Emperor!" The boy felt most passionately about this as his stance, instead of relaxed, became solid and confrontational. Not that a nine year old could challenge a Falleen.

Ah, yes, Skywalker. Vader's little brat. Xizor briefly wondered what woman the dark Lord had violated in order to produce an heir. He couldn't imagine a human female would willingly touch the murdering bastard. Still, here was what was reportedly Darth Vader's powerful and devoted son. Of course, who could ever really tell? Breathing masks weren't hereditary, and there was no way to tell if they had familial physical attributes. And why would the Imperial Prince be named Skywalker when his father was called Vader? So many questions, so many questions.

The Falleen bent low, his claw like hands supporting him by gripping his knees. "Well," he purred darkly. "Don't you just have a pretty face." Young Skywalker seemed quite taken aback by Xizor's suddenly looming presence, for the small boy appeared to wilt slightly. A coward? Then he must be Vader's boy. The boy's breathing increased nervously as Xizor ran an experimental claw gently across the boy's jaw bone so as not to leave a mark. "What a price you'd fetch on a back water black market."

Luke felt himself forced to meet the Falleen's eerie violet eyes, and he gulped slightly. He didn't know why, but something inside him screamed "Enemy!" It was like seeing a poisonous snake curled up in his path. Despite the fact that Xizor was an Imperial ally, Luke found he did not trust him.

"And such eyes…." Xizor praised, tilting the boy's chin up. "I wonder if your father has those icy blue eyes. Of course, I wonder if you're even his."

Before he even consciously realized it, every instinct inside of Luke had reacted the only way it knew how: _Father!_

Mere moments later, not even a full minute, Luke could feel the room shake beneath his feet, and heard the desperate, frightened cries of Imperial officers as they scattered. Xizor didn't move, just continued to squint and stare as he carefully appraised the future emperor.

With a gigantic boom, the doors to the antechamber Xizor had been put in swung open, cracking against the wall. "_Xizor!_" Instantaneously, Luke breathed easier. No, it was alright, he didn't have to be afraid, his father was here. The Falleen calmly rose from his kneeling position, whispering to Luke, "We'll have to continue our conversation some other time."

_Let's not._

The room continued to rattle under Vader's heavy, dangerous, ominous step, and Luke remained firmly rooted to the spot. "I swear by all the deities imaginable," the deep snarl continued, "that if you have hurt one hair on his head, I'll-"

"You'll what?" sneered Xizor. "Don't make any pretensions in thinking _I'm _afraid of you. I'm not one of your lackeys. What could _you _do to _me_."

Vader didn't pause a beat, his stride as even and thundering as ever. Without so much as a pause, Vader's hands had shot up and wrapped around the Falleen's green, reptilian neck, and Luke had scuttled behind his father's massive black leg. The boy anxiously wanted comfort, but didn't dare cling to his father's boot. Better wait until he'd dispensed his rage. If his father was chocking Xizor with his bare hands then he was clearly very angry.

"I was thinking," snarled Vader, "I could snap your neck in two."

This, of course, didn't happen, as an officer had scurried up to the Dark Lord of the Sith and was nervously begging, "Please, my Lord, His Excellency would like to see Prince Xizor now, so if you could refrain from killing him-"

With a vicious snarl, Vader released the Falleen, instead employing one hand to carefully and possessively caress the boy's head, pushing the soft blond hair out of the icy blue eyes. Luke still watched Xizor carefully, wrapping both of his small hands around his father's large, gloved hand. "Be very grateful to the emperor," he hissed, and Luke's grip on his father's hand became impatient and distressed. Two more officers anxiously guided the scowling and glaring Xizor down the hall to His Majesty's audience chamber, while Vader had quickly bent down to Luke, who was trembling.

"Are you alright? What happened, what did that bastard do to you?"

"He just said things, and…and the Force told me not to trust him, and….and I was afraid," he admitted, and his father patiently soothed the quivering child.

"It's alright, you were right. I don't think you should trust him either. What did he say to you? Did he insult you, what?"

"Am I your son, do I look like you?" Luke begged, trying to slow his breathing.

Vader blinked, slightly confused. "Like I did. You…look like I used to."

Luke was growing calmer. "The lava?"

"The lava." He quickly changed the subject back to the matter at hand. "Don't listen to him. You are my son, always, don't trust him."

"Yes, Father," Luke whimpered. He found the hand he had been gripping suddenly wrenched from him when Vader stood up and wheeled on the officer that had kept him from killing Xizor. "Why weren't you watching him?" The trembling officer was quickly pinned to the wall, the breath being slowly sucked out his body. Under normal circumstances, Luke might have protested that he could take care of himself. But these weren't normal.

Instead, he found himself pleading, "Please, Father, don't!" Vader paused, glancing at his son. "Don't kill him. He…he didn't know."

While the excuse wasn't enough for Vader, he was of the mood to spoil Luke in whatever he asked. He let the shocked officer drop, leading his son back down the corridor. "Now," he whispered carefully. "Are you sure he didn't do anything else to you?"

"He didn't hurt me, Father. He just….Bad feelings," was all Luke could make it amount to with a shrug, and he stared at the tiles of the floor sadly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," soothed Vader. "It doesn't matter. Just go back to your room for a little while, alright? I've got to talk with the emperor…And Xizor."

"Yes, sir." The boy answered, and rushed off, sparing his father and hero a glance, trying to force the incident out of his mind.


	9. Playing the Game

**Playing the Game**

Grinning, Luke carefully and quietly crept around the corner. Time to play the game, what with the rapid approach of his birthday. It was an old game, and he no longer had much chance at playing it, but he just wanted to play it, sometimes.

His partner in the game? That would be Wedge, who, having just stumbled out of bed, was making himself a cup of caff.

"Caffeine….need….." The young man mumbled sleepily, falling across the table with a great yawn.

"Hey, Wedge!"

Wedge started as Luke jumped around the corner, eyes turned wide, one hand clutching his chest. "Jeezes, Luke, are you trying to kill me?"

"No," he replied innocently, still grinning.

"Have a seat…." Wedge managed to mumble, and Luke did so. "How long have you been up for?"

"I dunno," the young Jedi shrugged. "A couple hours."

Wedge stared at his crono, his brain finally catching pace with his eyes. "At 0600 in the kriffing morning?" Finally, he had to ask, "What are you grinning about?"

"Hey, Wedge, do you want to play a game?"

Pause for a yawn. "Yeah, sure, Luke."

"Okay!" Luke grinned, anxiously rubbing his hands together. He leaned one forearm on the table, resting his chin on the balled fist of the other arm. "Wedge," he began, "how old are you?"

Wedge blinked. "Eighteen."

The broad grin dropped. "Ah, jeeze, Wedge, you aren't supposed to tell me."

Wedge merely blinked again, highly confused. "But you asked me!" He shook his head, trying to comprehend it. "Anyway, can we play the game now?"

"That _was _the game, and you lost!"

A few more blinks. "Ummm…."

"Forget it," Luke shook his head, getting up from the chair. "I'll find someone else to play with."

…

"Wait, did she shoot at you before, or _after _you slept with her?"

"Ummm…." Wes paused for thought. "Before."

Tycho blinked, staring at Janson. "And you _slept _with this woman?"

"She had really great legs."

"Oh."

"Hey, Tycho!"

The grinning young Skywalker came bounding up to his comrades, who caught his infectious grin.

"Well, hey, Luke!" Wes smiled.

"What's up, Luke?" added Tycho.

"Do you want to play a game?"

Tycho and Wes glanced at each other. "Sure," the former replied.

"Okay!" Luke's grin grew wider. "How old are you?"

Tycho and Wes shared another confused look. "But…but you know how old I am…"

Luke's shoulders slumped. "Just play along."

"But his birthday was last month."

Luke sighed, clearly defeated. "Never mind…." And he skulked away.

…

"I'm telling you, flush beats full house."

"You're full of it, Klivian, you know you are!"

"Hey, guys!"

The four heads turned in the direction from whence the noise had come. There was a generally chorus of, "Hey, Luke!" before the game absorbed them once again. Luke pulled a chair over, straddling it as he watched. Finally, he grinned, eyes set on Hobbie. "Hey, Hobbie."

"Yeah?"

"How old are you?"

Blinking, the young man answered, which finally pushed the young Jedi over the edge. Rising from his chair, he angrily stormed from the room, crying, "You all _suck_ at this game."

A long moment of silence followed.

Hobbie was the first to break it. "Wait…I'm confused."

Wes soon followed, dignifiedly replying, "Please allow me to say…..what the hell is going on!"

…

Luke had stomped away and to his own quarters, where he promptly flopped onto his bunk. _No one_ knew how to play the game. It wasn't that hard. He'd played it for years with….his father.

The young man rolled over, tightly shutting his eyes, trying to forget about it. He just wanted to play it, sometimes….

…

Stealthily, the small boy snuck through the halls of the Imperial palace, deadening his steps with the aid of the Force. Carefully, he palmed open the door to a small, dark room, a bed with a small lump in the center taking up most of the space. Carefully, he crawled onto the bed, poking at the lump.

The lump rolled over, groaning, to reveal the little red head of Mara Jade, trying to sleep. "Five more minutes…."

"Hey, Mara….." Luke whispered patiently.

The young girl blearily opened one eye, blinking. Taking one look at the person trying to rouse her, she quickly rolled back over again.

"Marrraaaa……"

She knew full well that the annoying whine and the incessant poking would not stop until she gave in, so she finally answered, "What?"

"Do you know what today is?"

"No, now leave me alone." She paused to open one sleep filled eye, staring at the crono. "What are you doing up at 0600 in the kriffing morning?"

"Do you want to play a game?"

"No!" She quickly pulled the covers up over her head, and no amount of begging and whining could make her emerge from her warm, small cocoon.

…

"Good morning, Father."

Vader glanced down at the small blond child that had seemingly just appeared at his leg. How did that boy manage to sneak up on everyone? "Good morning, Luke," was the reply, and Vader started walking on again. Luke quickly increased his pace in an effort to keep up.

"Do you know what today is?"

He did, and paused, looking down at his ecstatic son. He never forgot what today was. "No," he lied. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Why don't you guess?"

"Would you like to play a game?"

Luke's blue eye lit up, his small face spread in a grin. There was only game that they ever played on his birthday. "I'm seven today, Father. How old are you?"

Vader couldn't help but relent, deciding that there was time enough to pause and play their age old game. He quickly knelt down to be on eye level with the boy. "Guess."

Luke scrunched up his face in carefully thought. "Thirty nine."

"Try again."

"Sixty nine."

"Not quite."

"A hundred!"

"Higher."

"A thousand!"

"You're getting close!"

"You can't be a thousand, Father," Luke shook his head knowingly. "No one's a thousand."

Stiffly – he was getting old, wasn't he? – he rose, and continued walking, Luke trying to keep pace. "I'm sure there are people out there that are one thousand. The universe is very big and very old."

"Will I ever meet someone who's a thousand?

"Maybe."

"Will I live to be a thousand?"

"Maybe."

They walked on in companionable silence, Vader trying very hard to squash the light hearted feeling in his chest. "Don't you have lessons to go to?" he casually reprimanded.

"Do I have to go today?

"You have to go everyday."

Luke pouted briefly before giving in. "Yes, Father." Stalking away, he was paused by his father's voice.

"Happy birthday," he reminded, and Luke smiled again.

…

"Um, so, do you think we made him mad?"

"He _seemed_ pretty mad."

"Well, I don't get why! I mean, he just asked us how old we were."

"Luke's kinda weird like that."

"Hey, shut up, Tycho!"

"What? I didn't mean in a bad way!"

The small group outside the pre-mentioned Luke's door were trying to be quiet. They were failing miserably. Finally, confused by the dull murmurings he heard outside, Luke opened the slider door, only to be met with the four surprised and somewhat apologetic faces.

"What are you guys doing?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, hi, Luke," Wes grinned sheepishly.

"Fancy meeting you here."

"What are you talking about, Hobbie, I _sleep _here."

Tycho punched Hobbie's arm, muttering, "Moron."

"So," repeated Luke. "What are you doing?"

They scuffled their feet for a few seconds before Wedge nervously asked, "So….do you want to play a game?"


	10. HD47 or Fixing Commander Skywalker

**HD-47**

**Or**

**Fixing Commander Skywalker**

I _should _be able to heal Commander Skywalker just fine. In _theory_ it is an easy task. After all, the name HD-47 has long been synonyms with healing the injured.

Why I can't confuses even my fantastic computing skills.

As one of the best programmed health droids in the Alliance, my skills are often required for patience in desperate straights, patience who are highly valuable, patience who are commanders, and very necessary.

Commander Skywalker is the first patient in my memory file to have ever fit into all three categories simultaneously.

My specialty is fixing broken bones, and when Commander Skywalker does get these, they are rather minor, and I find he fixes them himself more than – to my horror – I myself do. Fascinated, I have questioned him on this. He merely begins a long conversation about something he calls, "The Force," and many sub details of it. I generally stop listening after a few moments. No medical science, pure fantasy.

But it does seem to work.

In many aspects, Commander Skywalker lives a very healthy lifestyle. He does not drink himself into a stupor, nor smoke spice until his lungs turn black. He does not pump himself with foods filled with fat, so his eating habits are….

Well, actually, his eating habits are quite horrific.

It was General Rieekan that asked me to limit my care specifically to Commander Skywalker, if just for a little while. This was a very strange request, but the general insisted. Who am I to argue? Of course I accepted.

On the matter of the commander's eating habits – ah, forgive me, I suppose I should say the lack there of. Commander Skywalker rarely eats. He is dragged into the mess hall by his friend and co-Rogue Squadron pilot, a one Wedge Antilles, from time to time, but even then he more picks at the food more than eats it. Still, I've managed to supplement this, as I do many things for the commander, with many, many vitamins, minerals, and other medications. I reported that the problem had been put aside to the general, but he was not entirely satisfied.

"I am very glad you can do that, 47, really, I am. But the boy needs to eat."

I have protested that eating is a very inefficient thing, but General Rieekan merely laughs.

"Maybe so, but we like it."

Commander Skywalker doesn't. I have asked him to eat many times, and he makes several excuses of, "Well, sure, but I'm not really hungry." Or, "Sorry, I've been very busy, I just forgot." Or, if his mood is particularly obstinate, he merely shrugs and says, "I don't want to."

It is very hard to argue when you are programmed to obey.

The commander also has large amounts of scar tissue. Some he briefly explains are from previous engagements before he joined the Alliance – more than that he never says – but I sometimes find very bad, not to mention odd, cuts around the major vein on his wrist. When questioned, he simply pulls the sleeve down and mutters some unintelligible excuse. They aren't serious, heal in a few days, and sometimes leave no scar at all. I never question it.

However, when I report such findings to General Rieekan, the blood tends to drain from his face – a very odd human attribute.

Humans are very odd, but I enjoy fixing them. Commander Skywalker has merely proven to be a fresh challenge.

Another terrible habit of the commander's is his lack of sleep. He has admitted that he does often purposefully keep himself awake, and that I can never understand. Neither human nor droid cannot function without enough rest. That is one thing I cannot supplement.

When I report this to the general, it seems that it is often reported to Princess Leia Organa. She is a fiery girl, and, quite oddly enough, just about the only one the commander will listen to one hundred percent of the time. The members of Rogue Squadron, quiet justifiably worried for their commander, refer to it as when, "It's time for Luke to get his ass kicked again." The response is often, "Finally. Now he can start eating again."

I find this to be an odd phrase, as Commander Skywalker exhibits no signs of physical abuse afterwards. However, I am given to understand, the encounters including quite a bit of yelling, begging, and use of the rather odd human tear ducts. I never have understood tear ducts. Commander Skywalker comes out much the same as before, with the exception that he eats or sleeps for a time. A week, generally. If the session is particularly long, maybe two.

Somehow, however, I do not think these visits increase his mental health any.

Mental health is a terrible problem, and it is obviously the worst of the commander's problems. He has sometimes admitted that his poor health is why he takes such reprehensible care of his body. The why has ever escaped me. I do ask him, and I get muttered replies of Father, Obi-Wan, Master, Jedi, Sith, Force, darkness, and dreams. I do not understand these words, and it seems that neither does the general, really. Only the basics. The details and what they have to do with Commander Skywalker are a mystery to pretty much everyone.

Who his father is is not on file. Who this Obi-Wan is is not on file.

About the only coherent thing on file is the commander's dental records. He has excellent teeth.

Begrudgingly, but never complaining, Commander Skywalker never misses one of our weekly appointments to check on his ever decreasing health. I cannot pinpoint what is wrong with him. If he would just eat, or sleep, or somehow avoid the lacerations he keeps getting around the wrist (I have warned him that if he does not watch out for that, he might get a very serious one and bleed himself to death. He has responded that he is quite well aware of that, and I think I heard him mutter, "So far, it hasn't worked.") he would be the healthiest person on base, easily. But he never listens. I can't say why.

General Rieekan is taking me off duty as the commander's personal physician. He thanked me for it, but said that it simply wasn't working.

He is convinced that all the problems lie within Commander Skywalker's mind.

I have never understood human minds, nor can I fix them. I told the general this, and he merely shook his head, saying, "They can't necessarily be fixed." He sighed and walked off.

It is sad to be taken off an assignment where all you've successfully done is subscribe dietary supplements.

I should be able to fix Commander Skywalker.


	11. 55 Reasons Why Jekyll and Luke are Alike

**The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and….Luke Skywalker?**

**A.N.: Because I'm a J&H junkie and love angsty characters. Musical and book based. Um, yeah, enjoy….**

1. Both love their daddies

2. Both accused of being gay (I got this in a review. It was sort of an Obi-Wan/Luke sorta deal. Creepy….)

3. Both live "the façade."

4. Both have talked to evil/good versions of themselves.

5. Both have accidentally killed people

6. Both want women they can't have

7. Both are "pursuing the truth."

8. Both called crazy

9. Both oh so cute.

10. Both engaged/wanting to be engaged

11. Both tortured and angsty

12. Both threaten suicide

13. Both chicken out of it.

14. Both have women in love with them that they are only barely aware exist.

15. More to the point, both have really, really hot, sexy women in love with them that they are only barely aware exist.

16. Both occasionally go to nightclubs to drown their sorrows (Jekyll gets the Red Rat after his engagement party, Luke just goes to that one place on Naboo.)

17. Both of their names can become pet names by a "ie." (Jekkie, Lukie)

18. Both are tired of life

19. Both are afraid to die

20. Both have bad nightmares

21. Both have severe health problems

22. Both act like heroin addicts in withdrawal.

23. It could be argued that they both "advertise and support drug use." I guess.

24. Both really get a kick out of being evil.

25. Accept they don't like it

26. At least, that's what they keep telling themselves.

27. Make bad decisions under the influence of alcohol and/or painkillers.

28. Both can be extremely reclusive.

29. And just a tad crazy.

30. Both end up slaughtering people in nasty ways that they regret afterwards.

31. Both upper class

32. Both are obsessive and slightly compulsive.

33. And damn does it ever get them into trouble.

34. Both are generally all around nice guys

35. They're both murderers with a guilty conscience.

36. Both end up playing the field of seduction.

37. Both are not one, but two.

38. They are evil and good.

39. And they walk the fine line

40. That they'd cross if they could.

41. And I am done quoting musical lines.

42. Even though they're kinda nifty.

43. Shutting up now.

44. Both make promises they try to honor

45. But ultimately fail.

46. Both end up trying to dig themselves out of the hole they've landed in.

47. One bursts into song about it and the other one probably would if he could.

48. Has Luke killed a prostitute? We will never know.

49. Has he slept with one? That one I can answer – no.

50. And if he has, then he's been keeping secrets.

51.Both die, eventually….

52. Both get married? Well, one tries to, anyway.

53. But that didn't really work out…

54. I'm running out of reasons…

55. I'm a proud fangirl of both. There.


End file.
